


The Declaration of Two Warriors

by Dulcinea



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bottom Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Flogging, Light BDSM, M/M, Mating Rituals, Memory Loss, Restraints, Sappy, Smut, Top Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: It was supposed to be a normal night in bed between the two of them, exploring something new. But Goku always surprised Vegeta, and always when he least expected it, or wanted it.
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 76
Collections: My Dragonball Favs





	The Declaration of Two Warriors

Vegeta stood at the edge of the bed, surveying his work in the dim lamp light: Goku, restrained to each bedpost with ki-dampening cuffs, spread-eagled and naked, a cloth gag in his mouth, a cloth over his eyes, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead…  
  
His hand squeezed the flogger’s handle.  
  
 _Perfect._  
  
The floor creaked under his shoes as he circled the bed. He ran the tips of the bullhide flogger over the dip of Goku’s right hip—and he grinned at the sound of Goku’s muffled growl, followed by the sight of his wriggling arms and legs.  
  
He rose his hand.  
  
 _Slap._  
  
Goku arched up with a moan.  
  
Vegeta aimed for the inside of his thigh—  
  
 _Slap._  
  
—and Goku moaned louder.  
  
 _Slap_ , to his shoulder shoulder. _Slap_ , to the other.  
  
A grunt. A groan.  
  
His dick twitched at Goku’s next deep growl.  
  
Vegeta skipped the flogger up his torso.  
  
Goku’s wriggling made the bed squeak.  
  
He pressed the bullhide ends to his skin, slowly circling around the bed until he stood at the end again. And he waited. And waited. Waited for the growl. Waited for Goku’s impatience.  
  
And when it came—  
  
 _SLAP._  
  
—down his hand went.  
  
Goku’s head jolted up the pillows with a loud yelp and quickly smacked back down with a soft groan.  
  
Vegeta smirked. He rubbed the ends back and forth over his hardened nipples, delighted in the way Goku squirmed, as if he couldn’t decide whether to jerk away or come closer to the sensations.  
  
 _SMACK._  
  
Goku’s arms and legs jerked harsher, rattling the ki cuffs.   
  
_SMACK._  
  
His ass bucked upwards, his lower back curving into a beautiful ‘c’.  
  
 _SMACK._  
  
His muscles flexed, yanked, his neck as taut as his biceps.  
  
 _SMACK._  
  
The side of his head slammed into the pillows once, twice, his teeth gritting hard around the gag, enough where the canines peeked over the cloth’s edge, and the sight made Vegeta’s cock twitch.  
  
 _SMACK._ _A shrill whine as Goku bucked hard in his restraints._ _SMACK._ _A deep, guttural moan as he twisted his head to the other side, slamming it against the pillow._ _SMACK_. The canines shined as bright as the sweat pooling at the hollow of Goku’s throat, and Vegeta couldn’t resist anymore, leaning forward to swipe at it with his tongue.   
  
He pulled away before Goku could lean up into his touch. A small whimper bled out from under the gag and Vegeta chuckled, sliding the flogger’s end under Goku’s chin.

“Ceri.” _Slut_. The leather left a visible scrape against Goku’s pale skin. “Au ni m’yo.” _You’re mine._

From under the gag, Vegeta heard a muffled word. Almost sounded like ‘please.’

He skipped the flogger back and forth over Goku’s torso, delighted in the way Goku twitched and hissed at the sensations. “To think, Kakarot.” He slid it down his torso, traced his bellybutton, slid it between his legs. “You were so afraid of this before.” Over his balls. Watched them twitch and tighten. Watched his cock bob and slap against his stomach, achy and purple and angry red. “Afraid to give in.” He blew cool air over that cock and chuckled again at Goku’s whine. “How things have changed.” He quickly licked the tip of his cock and bounded away before Goku could thrust into him—only to _SMACK_ that flogger against Goku’s stomach and laugh at his muffled shout. “All for the better, I say.”

Whatever Goku said next died under the endless parade of _smack_ and _slap_ and _crack_ Vegeta rained upon Goku’s body.

He marked it up as he pleased, like an artist with a blank canvas and all the freedom and time in the world to create. He drew red here and there—small, insignificant marks, enough to sting, to cause equal pain with the pleasure.

Bruises flourished on Goku’s thighs. Welts bloomed on his stomach. Vegeta switched up the flogger for his own deep bites to Goku’s arms here and there, suckling on the straining biceps held down in place, until he felt satisfied with his mark. He did the same to his pecs, squeezing them together hard, pulling them apart, licking his sternum up and down before biting down, hard, then leaping away before Goku’s body could touch his. All the while, Goku’s cock remained untouched, leaking onto his marred stomach, adding to the gleam of sweat and redness that Vegeta created himself.

He felt satisfied when he finished his last bite on Goku’s right hip, watching the bruise take shape, the dark red mutating to a red-tinted yellowish-purple.

Vegeta gripped himself in his free hand, watching Goku writhe on the bed worse than before, marked up from head to toe. He licked his lips, tasting Goku there, his own sweat, as he feasted on the sight of pure abandonment, of sheer _obedience_ , all for him, _because_ of him.

A purr rose from within himself. He chuckled at Goku’s panting and whining, how he writhed on that bed, how _wrecked_ and pathetic he looked. His ruined skin, his restrained form, his slurred, muffled words. Words like ‘please’ and ‘prince’ and ‘help.’ Sadalan words like ‘t’ui’ and ‘buh’tir’ and ‘Ve’ho’ which pleased him well. If the gag wasn’t on, maybe he could judge Goku’s accent, see if it improved as well as Goku’s sexual prowess—

Vegeta’s eyes widened at the next word he heard.

He stepped closer to the bed, closer to Goku, to double check what he heard was correct.

It was barely audible, faint, but he heard it again, and again, and again, like a mantra, mindlessly thrown into the world. But it didn’t sound mindless. It sounded purposeful, needed, full of intent.

The flogger slipped out of his hand, clattering onto the floor, as he reached for Goku’s gag, untying it slowly. He pushed the wet cloth off the bed, his hands sliding around Goku’s sweaty face to lean over him and cup his head in his palms.

Red, dry, chapped lips. Heavy breathing, through his mouth, his nose. Goku still couldn’t see, and for that, Vegeta was grateful.

He didn’t even need to prompt Goku to hear loud and clear what he was chanting.

“Mah’kha… mah’kha… mah’kha…”

Vegeta felt the world freeze.

That word wasn’t in the dictionary he made for Goku. He didn’t write that one down. No Saiyan said that word, not unless they were mates, and he and Goku were nowhere near that kind of relationship. Probably never would be that kind of relationship. At least, supposed to not be _that_ kind of relationship.

“H-How…” He cleared his throat. “Kakarot, how—”

“Mah’kha, mah’kha, m’eh ui sha, mah’kha—”

“Kakarot, stop—”

“M’eh ui sha Ve’ho, mah’kha—”

He squeezed Goku’s face. “Stop it—”

“Mah’kha, mah’kha—”

“ _Hi’nah!_ ” _Enough!_ He shook Goku’s head in his grip. “Hi’nah f’ri tapik’ot!” _Stop all of this!_

It stopped. Goku’s lips moved, but no sound came out. They didn’t form any words Vegeta recognized, as if moving for moving’s sake, mindlessly.

He slipped his hands up into the blindfold, pulling it off and away, only to sink his fingers into Goku’s sweaty locks and dig in, hard. He waited for those eyes to open, to see recognition, alertness, shock, maybe even a little bit of guilt for saying those words—because there was no way he learned any of those words on his own.

Goku’s eyes fluttered open.

Vegeta’s own turned bug-eyed, his lips parting open in shock.

He found Goku’s red-rimmed eyes empty. Big, wide, dilated pupils. The brown of his irises looked thin and lighter than usual. Almost primal, and wild. Confused, clear, needy and lost, all in one.

Vegeta leaned in closer, looming more over Goku.

Those brown, empty eyes brightened in the room’s soft light. Almost watery. His lips formed that word again— _mah’kha_ —and Vegeta leaned in, kissing it away. He kept kissing him, resting his naked form over Goku’s restrained one, slipping his tongue inside as he sunk further into him. Goku responded in kind, opening himself up further, leaning up into him, giving in to Vegeta.

When he ended the kiss, Vegeta rested his forehead against Goku’s and sighed. He scraped his nails against Goku’s scalp—skipping purposefully against the deep, rigid scar he knew well—and nuzzled the skin between Goku’s eyebrows with his nose.

His heart skipped when he heard Goku whisper that beloved word again, “Mah’kha,” and then the rest: “m’eh ui sha Ve’ho.”

He sighed again and closed his eyes. Nodded once. Kissed his forehead. Kissed the area between his eyebrows. He scooted down, resting his naked cock against Goku’s, shivering at the long, guttural moan he released as they rubbed up against each other.

Vegeta smirked. “Damn you, Kakarot.”

“Ve—"

He covered Goku’s mouth with his own, thrusting against him _,_ above him.

It didn’t matter that Goku came so easily, just seconds into thrusting, cum splashing between their moving bellies. Goku hadn’t received any release for so long now. So Vegeta didn’t stop. He moved, slowly, holding Goku’s head in place, controlling his kiss as slow as his movements. He ate up every moan, every whimper that Goku released, the sweat and the cum easing the way for his cock to slide between Goku’s balls and thighs.

The heaviness of Goku’s accidental, loving Sadalan words hung in the humid air, tainting what was supposed to be just another evening between them, but no longer. Of course Goku had no idea what he was saying. But the intention. The passion behind each clicked syllable, each growl. For as unintentional and mindless as they were said, Vegeta heard the sincerity, the need. And as much as he wanted to say _no_ , to slap Goku stupid, to reprimand him for saying _that_ word, he couldn’t. Not when those same words fluttered so dangerously to his own consciousness from time to time, ever since he started a relationship with this man.

Tongue slid against tongue, lips moved together, and the sweet sounds Goku made only grew in intensity and frequency. He could’ve given in to his baser Saiyan instincts and ripped the ki cuffs away, destroyed the bed if he wanted to, throw Goku ass up and head down into the dirt outside their home and ravish him like his ancestor before him. Taken him in the way he knew Goku unconsciousness wanted.

But Vegeta held firm. He let Goku arch into him, let him shiver from heat to toe despite the heat, let him take over their endless kiss, but he stayed in control. He knew better than to give in. He knew more than Goku in many ways—in bed and in the hardships of life, but especially in those words. He knew full well what those words meant, what Goku’s mind wanted more than he actually knew, and maybe, in time, Vegeta would be ready for it.

He ripped away from Goku’s mouth to grip his canines into meaty part of Goku’s shoulder. His fingers dug into the dents of Goku’s hips, bruising the skin as he chased his orgasm, thrusting faster against Goku. Again, Goku chanted that word— _mah’kha, mah’kha_ —and more cum spilled between them as Goku cried out, uncontrollably shaking against Vegeta, against the bed, his lips twisted and his breathing loud and shallow all at once. And Vegeta rutted faster against him, guttural noises rising from deep within, thinking again and again of Goku, of their life together, this man beneath him, this man who belonged to him, and the word struck, that beautiful, sacred Sadalan word struck Vegeta’s very heart, and he groaned, almost like a cry, as he allowed it to exist in his mind. He felt the edges of orgasm as he thought of that word, chanted it again and again in his psyche, like Goku did, as he panted, bit harder, sucked the sweat and the skin and thought of what it would be like, how it would happen, when and where he would do it—when he made Goku truly his—

_Mah’kha._

The word flashed across Vegeta’s mind as he came against Goku, growling into the bite.

He heard Goku sob in return. Endless shivers. Chattering teeth.

Vegeta’s mouth unclenched from around Goku’s shoulder. With the last of his strength, he reached up and hit the button to turn the cuffs off. They tumbled away, clanked onto the floor. Goku’s arms flopped on top of him like dead heavy weights of lead. He felt Goku’s head flop to the side, felt his lips graze the side of his temple. Long, drawn out, hot breath pushed Vegeta’s hair back and forth. A gentle, nice sensation on his scalp that lulled Vegeta further into the darkness behind his lids.

Not much time passed when he came to. Goku’s gentle breathing turned into light snores. His arms pinned Vegeta in place, against his chest. He pressed a kiss to Goku’s cheek as he eased out of the hold, careful not to disturb, but when he took the cuffs off Goku’s ankles, he saw Goku’s prone form begin to stir.

“Mmm…” Goku groaned, turning a little to his side. His arm reached out across the empty bed, clinging to the sheets.

Vegeta chuckled, coming to the side of the bed. He scooped his arms under Goku’s burly frame, watched as Goku stirred even more awake, jerking his head back to look right at him.

No more dilated pupils. No more bright eyes. Clarity returned, along with heavy confusion, mixed with tiredness and satiation.

“V-Vegeta?”

“Shh.” He lifted Goku up and off the bed, cradling him in his arms.

“What happened? I don’t—”

He kissed him quiet as he turned them towards the bathroom. Goku kept trying to ask questions, but Vegeta answered him only in touches, in kisses. He bathed the man in their large tub, rubbing the wash cloth gently over his marred skin, sure that Goku was confused by his actions and slightly amused by being able to hold something over the man for once. But Goku didn’t speak, content to let Vegeta do as he wished, which Vegeta needed, and appreciated.

When they finished, Vegeta made Goku stand in the bedroom, his lower body covered in a warm, fluffy towel. He felt all the confusion and questions radiating off the man, but to Goku’s credit, he said not a word. Instead, Vegeta felt those eyes watching him as he stripped the bed of all the sheets and placed a large comforter on it instead.

The silence ended when they landed back in their clean bed. “Vegeta?” Goku asked as he laid on his side, curled under the comforter, his face pale and his eyes shining in the dim light of their room. “Did something happen?”

Vegeta chuckled. His fingers skipped down over Goku’s sternum, creating mindless patterns on the skin. He nodded.

He watched Goku blink. “Oh.” And then, surprisingly, shiver. “Um.” He watched how his gaze drifted down and away. Off to somewhere else, some place not in this room, or this world.

Fear. Confusion.

It was barely a whisper, but Vegeta heard Goku well: “I don’t remember.”

Vegeta stopped his ministrations and sunk his hand behind Goku’s neck, forcing his head to tilt up and to meet his gaze. Still that fear. Unneeded fear.

“You did not hurt me,” he said, and that fear instantly disappeared as Goku sighed, a small, tired smile rising on his lips. Vegeta found himself returning that look with a smirk. “As if you could.”

Goku chuckled, closing his eyes. He scooted closer to Vegeta to kiss him, which Vegeta returned in earnest. They situated themselves on the bed, Vegeta laying on his back while Goku snuggled up to his side, resting his cheek against Vegeta’s shoulder as a small yawn escaped his lips.

Vegeta knew Goku always waited until he thought it was safe to mutter those words. He always heard them whispered against his skin. “I love you,” followed by the smallest of kisses. Those words, Vegeta didn’t mind. They were nice, easy words, with a kind purpose behind them. One day, he’d finally tell him that he didn’t mind them. Because in Sadalan, there were much stronger, purposeful words, much more meaningful than that simple phrase Goku uttered.

He waited until he heard Goku’s snores to sink one hand into Goku’s hair, find the scar and rest his palm over the scar there.

_Mah’kha, m’eh ui sha Ve’ho…_

Vegeta closed his eyes. He pulled Goku closer to him as he turned his head, burying his face into his hair.

No voice accompanied his words, but he mouthed them against the skin:

_Kakarot, t’au va’hir Ve’ho… mah’kha._

He sealed his promise to his intended with a kiss.

And in his sleep, Vegeta dreamt of golden palaces and a golden sky, twin red suns and thousands upon thousands of Saiyan faces, kneeling towards the throne. He dreamt of warm sand and fresh herbs, his father’s amulet and his people’s wild cheers. He dreamt of white armor, black altars, gold-embroidered silk tapestry wrapped around two hands, and a blood-colored drink, shared between two intendeds. He dreamt of the words, of himself and his Kakarot, of the celebration and the declaration of two warriors becoming _mah’kha’or esh t’air_ , and it filled Vegeta with pride, more than he ever thought possible of possessing, because it wasn’t just for himself now. Not anymore.

He dreamt of it all, and in his dreams, he drew himself closer to Goku, holding him tighter in his sleep. Unconsciously, Goku returned the hold in kind.

**Author's Note:**

> I am all about that sap, lol. I tried to make this just pure smut, but NOPE, curveball. Next one should just be pure smut only. We'll see!


End file.
